Phoenix Rising
by alopecia
Summary: Missing Scene from The Blaze of Glory Episode. Ryan entertains at the pep rally, bonfire structure. My attempt at silly, hot, oneshot.


**_Blaze of Glory_** Missing Scene Challenge Assignment

Title: _Phoenix Rising_  
Author: alopecia  
Setting: On the beach just before the bonfire/pep rally. This episode sucked so hard that you may have blocked it from your memory – it's the one where Seth constantly complains about how great the first year was, then butts in trying to get Marissa and Ryan back together, but the girl is busy fighting with Alex.  
Beta: FredSmith & mr. alopecia, but I tinkered after both  
Rating: no violence, some foul language, yes sex  
Characters: Ryan and random female

* * *

Ryan hammered the final nail into his Trojan horse. He was dehydrated and tired after working a frustratingly long day with Marissa and enthusiastic but unskilled kids. As he sat back to admire their work, he spotted a stunning woman walking toward the bonfire structure.

"Newport Fire Department. Who's in charge here, please?" the woman shouted to the few people left on the beach.

If it weren't for the shout and her blue polo shirt with the Newport Beach Fire Department's logo, Ryan wouldn't have guessed who she was. She seemed more like a dream, and way too hot to be putting out dirty fires. In fact she had started a fiery tingle in his dick, and he had to fight a stupid, schoolboy, grin off his face.

She impatiently brushed a curly tangle of light brown hair behind an ear. "Hey, if someone doesn't bring me a teacher type to sign off, your little party isn't happening," she threatened in a louder voice. Her ample breasts stretched her shirt taut when she spoke.

The students had worked diligently to finish in time for the bonfire/pep rally, and most had gone home to shower and get ready for the big night ahead. The four or five students still around looked at Ryan anxiously before scurrying off toward the parking lot. Mr. Schmidt, the supposed supervising adult, had left hours ago. It was clear he had volunteered only for the extra pay.

Ryan thought for a long moment before he waved a reluctant hand. He didn't want to take the responsibility of dealing with the hot fire official, and possibly having to explain to a disappointed student body and a pissed off the water polo team why the bonfire/pep rally was cancelled.

Hot was an underestimation, he realized as she confidently marched over to him. Dressed in blue cargo shorts to match her shirt, her legs were toned and tanned, clearly an athlete, probably in her mid twenties.

"I guess that's me," he said standing up, "Ryan … Schmidt, teacher type." Ryan nodded in greeting and took the opportunity to let his eyes drift. A close up of her breasts revealed little buds that he ached to bloom with the licked pad of a thumb. He stuck his hands deep into his pockets, smiling fiendishly, before remembering his manners. Damn, he had been in Newport too long, been without a woman for too long. He flushed and looked to see if she had noticed his geeky stare. She stood a full head taller than he, hazel blue eyes raised up to hazel blue eyes.

Thankfully, she seemed only mildly annoyed by his appraisal. "Tally Weis," she said with a friendly smirk, "before I issue you a permit for your bonfire I need to know that you know how to keep it safe."

Ryan cleared his throat and spoke evenly, hoping he hadn't blown it already. "I've isolated the fuel in approved canisters and put it in the parking lot. Depending on the wind direction and strength I'll keep everybody outside of a circle I'll draw around the fire. The construction plans have been looked over by my… by Newport Group engineers. I don't think you'll find a safer bonfire."

"Sounds like you know what you're doing," she said appreciatively.

"I want to be an architect…used to want to be," he said trailing off awkwardly.

Her eyebrows arched but she continued, "How is it supported? We need to make sure the fire collapses into itself."

Ryan nodded excitedly, happy to explain his creation before it was set to flames. "See how the legs meet?"

She shook her head no. Ryan stood behind her, wrapped her hand in his and pointed along the three legs of the horse. "These legs form a rock-steady tripod which meet hidden inside the belly of the horse, and the fourth leg is a disguised ladder." She had paused at his touch, and given him a considering glance before accepting his gesture and turning her attention back to the structure.

"I used to want to be an engineer. Had to drop out junior year of college …," she said in a wistful voice. Then with a slight shake of her head she said, "The head extends quite far out. How is it cantilevered?"

"Cantilevered," he repeated like a drunken parrot. She really understood what physical forces he was up against in this design. The Harbor students had seemed to think it was all so easy to build an interesting yet stable bonfire sculpture. "The weight of the horse's head is transmitted through the spine and braced against the middle!" he revealed importantly, "but I was careful that the head didn't extend beyond the bonfire's perimeter so it wouldn't fall on anyone when it burned."

He had had a secret hope that Kirsten or maybe Sandy would come to see his first creation, and they would be having this discussion with him. But he couldn't complain that a gorgeous, intelligent, woman wasn't an even better alternative. Was it right that he was turned on by her use of the word cantilevered?

He knew she was turned on, too. Cool as she played it, her eyes sparkled, her breath lightened and her casual touches lingered. He had seen the signs plenty of times before, but how far it would go was always harder to tell.

"The department just wants to make sure nobody gets hurt." Her professional voice held a thick layer of amusement. She smiled knowingly as her eyes slowly crawled up from Ryan's work boots, past his faded blue jeans, paused assessingly at his crotch, traveled across his soiled tee shirt to his sore bulging arms, and finally to his equally amused grin.

"Should I spin for you?" he asked playfully turning part way around. There were obvious advantages to living with the Cohens like an incredible education, a safe home, a great family, and a never-ending supply of take out food. But getting any wasn't one of them. Lindsay had left for America's hinterlands, and Marissa was seeing Seth's ex-girlfriend. So far Newport had not been good to him getting-wise. But parts below seemed to think his luck was changing; his dick pressed uncomfortably against his jeans.

She nodded, a yes that asked for more than his spin.

Ryan had figured on some harmless flirting, followed by a memorable jerk off when he got home. This was too good to be true. No more Newport teen drama, he thought, just a nice roll in the hay.

Ryan stepped up onto a flat timber so he could press her gently against one of the vertical pillars of the bonfire. He tilted his head and leaned down, barely brushing her lips. He dipped in again, demanding more, tasting chocolate maybe, feeling her inviting warmth definitely.

She pushed him away with a happy peel of laughter. "I think you'll do," she said slightly breathy.

"Oh, I'll do whatever you want," he said smoothly.

"Where to, cowboy? If this is happening it has to happen now."

Ryan slapped a hand to his head. "Shit. Wait. Shit. I'm not prepared, without… protection but I can run to the store," he said desperately. That was one lesson he learned from Theresa that he'd never forget again.

She smiled and shook her head no.

Ryan grimaced but said in a confident rumble because he knew it to be true, "Well, plenty of pleasure to be had even without."

"We're covered, Ryan, or you will be anyways." She patted the bulge in one of the pockets of her cargo shorts. "There's a Trojan pun here somewhere but it's too easy."

Ryan smiled crookedly, bounded up the ladder leg, and pushed his shoulder against a board. It gave way and he hoisted himself up into a small chamber in the horse's middle.

It was darkly lit and the air was stale. He saw a forgotten hammer, a couple of drop cloths, and a coil of rope lying where the workers had left them on the makeshift staging area. He'd worked with less before, he thought.

"Can it really support us up there?" Tally called up to him. 

"Trust me, I designed it. I had to scale it down, but it fits two people," he said with pride but modestly added, "tightly."

"I do tight," she said. Ryan's mouth ran dry.

He offered a hand to Tally when she got to the top of the ladder and helped her in. Her cool touch shocked him like an electric jolt extending from his hand down to his groin, the reality of imminent sex dawning on him.

The low sun beamed through slits in the planks of wood, lighting the space in random and dramatic strips of light. Ryan tried to build a comfortable space with the drop cloths. He paused at the rope but rejected it – too forward for a first time, he didn't want to freak her out. It was still cramped, but with the cloths he hoped they wouldn't get any splinters. When it was laid out as well as construction debris could be, he guided her over. They couldn't stand with the beams in the way, but they could sit up fairly easily.

Ryan whispered, "Anything you want, you let me know. 'kay?"

She nodded. "Let's get the clothes out of the way," she said softly but without shyness, already shedding herself of her clothes.

He nodded, not trusting his voice, and quickly caught up to her naked state. Though it was warm he saw her shivered ever so slightly. The faintest current of air from the open panel prickled his bare back, too. Ryan ran his hands up and down her arms, warming her, getting to know her slowly.

He began to fulfill his earlier fantasy and teased her nipples, rubbing lightly across them at first but growing more and more rough. The nipples stood erect and swollen. He couldn't resist kissing them, tugging one high into the air between his lips. Like riding bike, it was all coming back to him. He laughed with pure joy at the effects he was having on her, and she on him. And she giggled with him. It seemed to be a relief to both of them to know they were well-suited, he never knew for sure until the clothes came off.

His hand roamed down and a finger slipped into her folds but he was careful not to penetrate. He always thought the first stroke to be so important. She was slippery and wiggled at his touch. A sense of urgency replaced her earlier more languid motions; she pulled his mouth to hers and they kissed deeply. She sank back urging him to follow. But instead he tried to kneel before her to get access to her, craving a taste of her honey.

"Later," she whispered reading his thoughts, "I need you in me now."

Ryan hesitated, but lowered his head despite her orders, intending for the smallest of samples before complying. But he soon forgot his intentions as he drooled over her; the tip and flat of his tongue alternately worrying her clit.

Her back arched and she mewed in breathy gasps. "Ryan, please."

Ryan tried to quickly sheath his throbbing dick with the rubber she had provided.

"Now," she spat through gritted teeth. Fuck, he felt like a fucking amateur! But it had been a while and he had to make sure everything was okay - that there wasn't an air bubble to burst the condom, and there was a reservoir at the tip.

But he was more than willing to do her bidding, and positioned himself, his knees scraping against the hard plywood just short of the drop cloth. She dug her nails into his shoulders, silently brooking no argument, so he entered without further hesitation, plunging deeply, without finesse. They fought to meet each other, hips rocking and synching up but desperate, a little frantic. She was an articulate woman, humming and groaning her levels of pleasure with each of his maneuvers, helping him to help her come quickly. She howled, clenched, gripping him, and he cried out in his own bliss.

He held the condom carefully as he pulled out of her. Spent, they laid there, catching their breaths. Tally rested her head in the nook of Ryan's shoulder, her knees bent to fit in the small space. They could hear and feel both their hearts beating wildly. Ryan closed his eyes. God, he hadn't realized how much he needed this…

"Are you falling asleep on me? So help me, if you are."

Ryan's eyes shot open. "No, no," he protested, "that was just a double-eyed wink."

She hooted with delight. "Double-eyed wink, huh? Who are you?" she asked with mock amazement.

He smiled, his brother had taught him to use to use that phrase. Ryan considered telling her he was whoever she wanted him to be, but couldn't. "I don't know anymore," he replied honestly, "maybe trying too hard to be what everyone wants me to be."

"You're not a teacher, are you?" Ryan tensed and she laid a firm hand against him. "Damn. But you looked much older than a student. When you said you designed this horse I was suspicious…I thought a student would be the one to design the bonfire. Then it hit me just now - I remembered the name of the teacher from last year who had a scary mole was named Schmidt."

Ryan laid still, uncertain what to say or do.

"I'll give you your permit. My defense is that you don't look like your ordinary high school student. Any jury would buy that." She sighed. "It was exactly what I wanted though. Now that I know you're a kid I really should be going – not traumatize you anymore than I have." She didn't move.

When Ryan remained quiet, she sighed again and changed topics. "It's a horse, why?" she asked.

Happy not to be discussing his age, Ryan cleared his throat. "It's for a pep rally."

"Are you playing the Trojans this week or something?" she asked, "because that's odd, burning their mascot, even in effigy."

Ryan moved onto his side leaning on an elbow, his head propped up on his palm. He enjoyed the artistically striped views of her bare bottom and the graceful curves of her back. "Uh, no, I think our water polo team is playing Shorewood High. We're the Pirates and they are the Cougars, I think."

"So why the horse? I mean it's a lot of work just to turn around and burn it. Wouldn't a pile of wood do?"

"It's Newport," he offered lamely.

"Ahh, yes, Newport uber alles."

Ryan grinned dumbly, and felt obliged to explain that it was mostly his idea. "Part of me just wanted the engineering challenge. It's a long story, but the school paid for all the material and I had free labor so I thought I'd make it fun, see if I could build a Trojan horse that could hold a few soldiers in it."

She was quiet for a moment then said, "I'm a soldier. First lieutenant, Fourth Brigade Army Reserves out of Dublin." She turned away onto her stomach, her legs crossed in the air so they wouldn't knock a wall.

"Joined to help pay back student loans and now I'm shipping off to Iraq in a few days. No more fire inspections… So stupid, I thought at worse it would take away a few of my weekends. It's pretty intense," she admitted in a mumble to the floor.

"Hey," Ryan said, "come here." He scooted closer so his chest and groin pressed against her side. His hand danced over her back, stopping occasionally to knead at a knot. "I've got some money saved from last summer if you need it."

Her face was mostly hidden by the dark but he felt her smile. "Sweet but all your private school WASPy inheritance won't get me out of an Army contract."

"I want to help," he said plainly.

"You are, believe me, you are. You are my sweet treat before I leave." She turned over to kiss him, knocking her feet into the sides and cursing. When their lips finally met he wasn't into it, thinking about her going off to war. She must have noticed his reticence because she pushed and pulled him back and forth tenderly by the shoulder blade then, landed a light slap on his chest. "Listen, I could take you on. Do I look like I need help?"

Ryan laughed hard enough to jostle her slightly, but he pulled her tight, burying his head in her hair and breathing deeply. "No, ma'am," he said in a muffled voice.

"Let's try again. Who are you?" She rested on her elbows and turned to peer into his face, which was partly hidden in the dark.

"I'm …," Ryan started and stopped.

She nudged him. "I trusted you with my story."

He exhaled loudly and said, "I'm not a big talker."

"Relax, I'll help you." She pushed him flat onto his back, and jiggled his balls in her hand. His dick was slowly coming to life again, but having spent so recently it was a mellow good feeling without the urgent edge he had before. He squirmed a bit to get comfortable, his fingers laced behind his head, enjoying the idea of her taking over.

"I didn't come from the best of families, got in trouble with the law." Ryan's breathing was ragged now.

"No, not good enough, Private Ryan. Keep going." She had stopped massaging him when he had stopped talking.

"More, please," he begged sweetly.

"Not until you tell me what kind of trouble."

"Umm, car jacking," he gasped. She had started up again.

"Rich Newport boy like yourself, lifting cars?" She pumped him, pulling his skin taut with her hand. He was starting to worry about chaffed skin when she reached into her pocket and squirted lotion onto her hands. She restarted, fist over fist, pulling up over the tip of his penis, toying occasionally with its leaky head.

"I live with my lawyer's family. Faster?" he asked in a squeaky rasp. She complied, sitting up now, concentrating on him.

"Any other kids?"

"Yes!" he threw his head back and shouted, "Yes, Seth. His name is Seth." Breathing heavily to regain his control, he laughed to himself; no Seth, last year wasn't better than this.

She sheathed him expertly, straddled him and guided his cock into her wet canal. She slid in part way and held there for a few seconds. He scowled, and she had to press her hand on his hip to remind him stay down. She bent over to nibble on his ear. He panted loudly and tried his hardest to remain patient but a longing moan escaped him.

It seemed to be what she was waiting for; she sank into a bit deeper onto his shaft. She found a slow pace, nothing like their first more frenzied coming together. She dipped and offered each breast in turn, ground her pelvis into his. When they came moments apart it was with a soft, melting, cry.

They fell into a comfortable snuggling position and began to tell each other their stories. There was no outdoing each other with tales of family woe. It was all matter-of-factly told, knowing the other was not asking for or offering pity, only understanding.

When the mood seemed to run too serious, Tally said, "Okay, I get it now, why you built a 20 foot Trojan horse to last all of 4 hours." She ran her fingers across his chest absently.

Ryan couldn't move a muscle in protest.

"No, no I get it really," she continued, "The horse is symbolic of the frustration you feel about fitting into your new world. You've built a façade for yourself to try to get inside Newport's circle. Now you are, figuratively and literally speaking, hiding inside your creation, this horse you built. Are you hoping to be reborn like a phoenix into someone who has shed his old bad habits of uncontrollable anger and fear of abandonment?"

"First Lieutenant, you got me in one," Ryan said with wry amusement, "how did you do that?"

"You are not a very private Ryan, can't shut you up."

Ryan rose to rest on his elbows. "That I've never been told but I was never so properly motivated," Ryan said and added softly, "And there was someone to listen. Thank you. Even I won't worry about you in Iraq."

"Why is that?" she asked impishly.

"With you on their ass Troy is going down." He paused and kissed her loudly on the flat of her stomach. "Because you have keen abilities," he said and snuck in a few more kisses in the nape of her neck, "a wisdom and goodness to rival Athena - that will keep you safe."

"Athena, huh? All we really know is that I have an ability to satisfy a randy boy," she laughed.

"Yes, I think my phoenix is rising."

They stayed inside the Trojan horse, enjoying each other's company, until dusk and it became a worry Marissa might set fire to them.


End file.
